


one day we all must walk through fire

by sourwolfclub



Series: even oceans won't keep us apart [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, Demigod Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Kid Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kid Stiles Stilinski, M/M, The Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Warning: Kate Argent, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourwolfclub/pseuds/sourwolfclub
Summary: Stiles should not be out here on this night, but there is an insistent tug that keeps pulling him further into the woods and when he finally realizes what exactly is meeting him here, he can't help the unbridled rage that roars through him.





	one day we all must walk through fire

**Author's Note:**

> this idea has been stuck in my head for so long oh my god pls someone indulge me with this
> 
> in terms of whether this is actually coinciding with the pjo universe: it is, but stiles is five years older than percy so he isn't relevant to this lil oneshot right now. 
> 
> think of a pissed-off son of poseidon!stiles just storming into the hale house while it's on fire, a beautiful image people! beautiful! and he's mature af here, but if you've been killing monsters since you were six, you'd have grown up fast too

Scott keeps trying to pull him the other way, back to the deep woods they just came through after sneaking out of Scott's house.

His feet hurt, and his heart is panging painfully in his chest, but this feeling that tugs him forward is a lot more important than the trouble Stiles will be in once this is all over. His dad will be so angry with him, so concerned when he realizes it might not have been demigod business. But Stiles fought off three harpies after school just last week. He knows he can handle whatever is waiting for him ahead and John Stilinski knows it too.

"Stiles, let's go back," Scott tries to persuade him again, his lips beginning to turn blue.

Stiles shoves Scott's inhaler at him, pausing long enough for his best friend to finish breathing in the medicated puffs before he holds his hand out for the inhaler and continues onward. Scott sighs beside him but keeps a firm grip on his shirt sleeve and follows. The trees are beginning to thin, enough so that Stiles finally recognizes the parts of the woods they now find themselves in.

The Hale house should be nearby. Stiles knows this because everyone in Beacon Hills knows this. He has stumbled onto their property many times chasing after a monster of some sort, but he has been careful not to interact with any of the members of the Hale pack.

He's eleven and probably has more battle experience than the teenagers, but he will not present himself so young to the alpha.

But as he and Scott inch closer and Scott begins to cough, Stiles realizes he'll have to.

Smoke is beginning to hang heavy in the air and Stiles can  _hear_ the crackling of burning wood starting to crumble apart and he knows, without having to come closer, that the mighty Hale house is on fire.

"Scott," Stiles says fiercely, demanding his best friend's attention as he shoves Scott's inhaler into his open hand. "Go home."

"What about you?" Scott asks, panic already flitting across his eyes. "You can't go in there!"

"You have asthma. Who else is going to go in there and help?"

Scott watches him for another moment, tears in his eyes and Stiles can't tell if they're from the smoke and ash or his own emotions. For the moment, he really doesn't want to find out. So, he smiles and hugs Scott something fierce before letting him go and shoving him the way they came. Scott goes without another word because he isn't stupid, and he knows that when Stiles disappears every summer it isn't for math camp. He keeps looking back though so Stiles waits until his best friend has disappeared in the trees before he tugs at his medallion and breathes with relief when his armor forms over his torso with smooth progression.

He turns back around where he knows the house will greet him and walks forward, choking on the ash as he goes.

Stiles breaks through the trees and nearly stumbles as he finally sets his eyes on the house.

No one is screaming inside or even moving from what he can tell, but Stiles finds that all fades into the background of his mind because  _rage_ is what's filling him now.

He knows for a fact that there is dark magic going on here because of the ring of mountain ash that is probably keeping the werewolves inside, but the fire is what has him so incensed.

Who  _dares_ set fire to a house full of innocent people located smack-dab in the middle of  _his_  territory? A house where  _human_ children reside. Do people seriously not realize that the son of  _Poseidon_ is living and kicking all kinds of monster ass here? Do they all want to  _die_ or something?

He follows the tugging sensation inside the house and ignores the flames licking at his skin. With the very sea in his veins, he is partially immune to fire for a very short while, but he isn't depending on that to help him here. The front door is open and Stiles steps inside with the collar of his shirt over his nose, eyes scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary.

He stops dead a few steps in, not able to speak when he spots the kids huddled up asleep on the floor beside the grand staircase.

And then pure, unadulterated fury washes through him.

He screams at the top of his lungs and yells for everyone to wake up, to get up and get out. They are going to die if they don't do anything soon. They do not wake, and Stiles runs up the stairs, yelling even louder to get somebody's -  _anybody's_ \- attention. There is no answer when he reaches the second landing, but he follows the tugging in his gut and kicks open a bedroom door, pausing in the doorway when a growl greets him.

It's a boy older than him with dark hair and hazel eyes that Stiles can barely recognize as the brooding Derek Hale who works as a lifeguard for the community swimming pool. He looks furious and tears smear his face and Stiles should back away now but the tugging feeling practically shoves him inside the room and suddenly Derek Hale is all over him, breathing over his scalp and neck.

Scenting, Stiles' brain provides. Derek Hale is _scenting_ him.

Stiles shoves him back though, just now understanding why he was led to him of all people. He takes the older boy's hand and tugs him out of the room. Derek goes willingly, whining when they get down the crumbling stairs and see the children now rousing awake. It is as if a spell has been broken because soon there is a stampeding of feet from the second landing and Stiles almost sags in relief when he realizes that everyone in the house is waking up now.

There is still the fire and mountain ash to deal with, but Stiles waits until the adults have come down the stairs to meet their gazes head on. He should probably be afraid when Talia flashes her red alpha eyes at him, but Stiles once had a staring contest with Ares and the god of war has literal flames for eyes. This is nothing.

"Your house is on fire. I'm going to call the river nearby to put it out, but I can't guarantee I'll be able to get the water back out once I'm done. I'll wash enough of the mountain ash away for you to get out. Any humans need to go now before the flames get worse," Stiles says, staring at Talia until she nods stiffly.

"You shouldn't be here," she says when Stiles nods back at her.

Stiles grins, throwing his thumb out at Derek while the humans in the house rush out the door and collapse on the front yard. "Your son called me. Hard to ignore a mate bond."

Derek goes still behind him and Stiles almost wants to bang his head on a wall because even  _he_ knows that it had to be a werewolf mate bond that pulled him here. Chiron had taken the time to explain werewolf lore to him when Stiles told him where he was from and Stiles had soaked it all up like a sponge. Talia raises her brows at him but doesn't argue his claim.

"You're a child."

"I'm eleven-years-old but that hasn't stopped monsters from trying to kill me since I was six and my age definitely won't stop the monster who set your house on fire and trapped you all in here either," Stiles says with a shrug, sending feelers out to see what direction the river is in.

He turns eastward and breathes out, letting his eyes close as he calls the water to him. It responds almost immediately, roaring to life under his command.

"How are you going to 'call' the river?" Talia asks, shifting nervously as the fire continues to roar through the Hale house.

Stiles turns to face her with another exhale, the tugging sensation in his gut feeling even stronger than the mate bond in his chest and arms. "I'm the son of the sea. Water answers to me."

"That doesn't explain-"

But whatever Talia was going to say is drowned out by the sound of the river gushing through the trees. Stiles concentrates on the water then, directing it away from the clump of humans in the yard and throwing it over the house like a blanket. He curls his hands into fists and tugs an arm towards his chest as the water rushes past the front door. Derek flinches away from it and Stiles grabs his arm to keep him steady by his side.

"It isn't going to hurt you. The mountain ash has been washed away enough for you all to leave now. Let me finish in here," Stiles murmurs, knowing that his voice is loud enough for all the werewolves to hear him.

Stiles parts his arms and makes a path for the others to file out the front door. While the rest of the Hales march past, Derek and Talia stay put even when it is only the three of them left. Stiles breathes in and smashes one of his fists into his open palm. Water floods the entire first floor and Stiles concentrates on letting the two weres with him breathe. They panic briefly until they realize their air supply has not been completely cut off and Stiles steadies himself.

The water works its way through the Hale house and Stiles directs it up the stairs, using more of his strength to make sure none of the furniture is floating about either.

It takes a lot more strength than Stiles usually reserves to do this, but he endures and sighs when all the flames have been put out. He staggers as the water comes back down and falls to his knees as it all recedes away, every drop of river water that he called forth now returning to where it once came. He'll have to go thank the naiads tomorrow, but for now, he focuses on pushing the water back, taking care to avoid everyone standing on the yard again.

Derek helps him to his feet as they stumble outside, Stiles needing the fresh air to settle himself. Talia follows them, glancing around at what remains. Stiles is sure he has saved plenty of their keepsakes, but he has no idea how long the fire had been going on before he arrived, so he knows he didn't save everything either.

The others converged on the lawn swarm him soon after and Stiles clings to Derek, letting his mate (is he allowed to call Derek that? Derek is sixteen after all and Stiles is only eleven, but there isn't anything romantic about the mate bond he can feel tingling in his fingertips right now) hold him up and support him. There are too many adults that Stiles can be comfortable with thanking him with a sincerity he isn't used to from adults at all. A few of the kids have started to step up too, but then Talia growls and captures the attention of everyone there.

Stiles looks up to find an older, blonde woman he doesn't recognize with a hellhound beside her and a few men fanned out in a circle behind her. Derek's breath catches in his throat and a sharp jab of pain and anger flares in Stiles' chest. He knows these feelings are not his, so he stands right away while grabbing his last square of ambrosia from his pocket. He takes a small bite and rewraps it before shoving it back into his pocket then steps forward, ignoring the whine Derek makes and the stab of panic he can feel through the mate bond that should not be this developed or strong so quickly.

He will have to ask Chiron about it when he next gets the chance and forces himself to focus on the situation at hand.

Talia is circling the blonde woman, on edge due to the hellhound and the weakness of her pack right now. The woman smiles at first Talia then looks past Stiles and focuses on Derek, winking at his mate.

Stiles cannot describe the rage that flushes through his veins at that moment, but the next thing he knows, he's twisting his wrists and holding  _both_ of his swords in his hands, baring his teeth at the woman and her cronies.

The hellhound focuses on him immediately once he has drawn his celestial bronze but makes no move. Stiles steps forward and glares at the blonde.

"Did you set this fire?"

She smiles at him then, grinning like this entire situation is pure fun. "So, what if I did?"

Stiles grinds his teeth and feels the river churning far away with his anger. "Wrong answer."

She laughs at him then, the hellhound chuffing beside her. Stiles glares at the hellhound first, striking it silent before he focuses yet again on the woman. "Move aside little boy. My issue is with the wolves, not you."

"You set fire to a house full of innocents," Stiles barks at her, trembling with his rage now.

The woman eyes his swords and the armor he wears, clearly not grasping the full severity of who she is dealing with right now. "I set fire to a house full of monsters, little boy. You wouldn't know anything about that."

Stiles' jaw drops at the sheer audacity of her words before his teeth snap together painfully in pure fury. "I am Stiles Stilinski, son of the sheriff, son of Poseidon, and son of the  _sea_. I know all about monsters and how to kill them. The only monsters I see right now are you and your lackeys."

Talia stands stunned behind him, having stepped back when Stiles approached and the other Hales gasp at his words, but no one moves. The blonde woman before him rolls her eyes as if she is exasperated with him and Stiles can't help but feel himself snap a little inside at that.

"I am Kate Argent, daughter of Gerard Argent, daughter of the hunters and you're going to die now."

He knows she doesn't mean Artemis' hunters because Artemis would have killed her on the spot if she had approached the goddess in hopes of joining her hunt, so he guesses she means the werewolf hunters that Chiron mentioned. No matter, she still won't be a problem for him.

Stiles sidesteps the dagger she throws his way and rushes forward, spinning in and between his enemies with an ease that seems to surprise everyone present. The fight ends almost before he can take another breath and maybe Stiles should be wary of how easily he resigned himself to killing some humans, but monsters come in human shapes too he reminds himself.

Kate Argent is ridiculously weak compared to him and he cannot believe how  _easy_ it is for him to run his sword right through her chest while he slices the hellhound's head off with the other. Talia howls as the hellhound turns to golden dust, returning to Tartarus, and Kate falls to the ground dead when he pulls his sword out of her. Stiles quickly takes care of the men Kate had brought with her and when he is done, he turns back to face the Hales with blood splattered across his breastplate and face.

Silence greets him as he wipes his swords on the grass, his face hard set as he meets Talia's gaze. "I am the son of the sea and anybody who comes after me and mine will _die_."

Talia nods silently, watching as he exhales and twists his wrists to put his swords away in his bracelets then tugs on the end of his breastplate so it will shrink back into his medallion. Only when he has been relieved of all his celestial bronze does he feel the exhaustion rolling through his body. He steps forward and drops to his knees again, coughing so hard he can barely breathe when someone wraps an arm around him and rubs his back in soothing circles.

It's from all the smoke inhalation, he knows it, but he can't process that until the coughing fit has finished and he's taking his ambrosia out of his pocket again, taking a much smaller bite than before and replacing it again. He can breathe easier now, so he lifts his head, ready to thank Derek, but finds to his surprise that it is Talia who is comforting him. Derek is a few feet away, staring at Kate's fresh corpse while his siblings cling to him and watch Stiles with worry in their bright eyes. The other Hales are hanging back, but they are worried as well and Stiles feels another wave of relief hit him squarely in the chest while he sits up and leans into Talia's arms.

"Are you alright?" Talia asks, fingertips skimming across his hairline.

Stiles takes in the scene around him: the human bodies littering the yard and the charred house standing before him that will no doubt give him nightmares and demand even more hours of therapy for him. It is the living people he's focusing on though. The way they are clinging to one another - alive, every single one of them, even the baby being cradled in Peter Hale's arms. Derek is still staring at what used to be Kate, something like grief and acceptance vibrating through their bond. Stiles is only eleven, but he isn't stupid, and he can guess that Derek knew Kate, was close to her in a way Stiles would never accept from a full-grown adult who should know better.

But when Derek meets his gaze and Stiles sees the open relief and awe there, he can tell Talia with certainty that yes, he is alright.

He's better than alright now.

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~should i write more for this??? i have so many ideas bouncing around in my head~~ well a series has been created now so expect more soon!
> 
> also you can check my [tumblr](http://sourwolfclub.tumblr.com/tagged/progress-report) for my progress on the series


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